


The Deal

by TheDevilInHerself



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Contract, Embarrassment, Hand Jobs, Oneshot, Ownership, Rich reader, light humiliation, mirror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 21:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17373749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDevilInHerself/pseuds/TheDevilInHerself
Summary: When the Shimada clan is in trouble, it's up to its leaders to save it. By any means necessary.





	The Deal

“We agreed on the younger.” Sojiro’s stern expression and direct tactics in business lived up to their reputation, if only they could have served him better till now.

“We had no such agreement. I said I would consider it, and I have. I want the eldest.” Lacing your fingers together, you rest your hands on the table, relaxed and unconcerned with the negotiations as the man glowered at you.

“So you expect me to agree to being left without my primary heir, the one I’ve been training and preparing his whole life? You will take the second, as we agreed.” Despite all the eyes on you, you were unconcerned with the tension in the room. You had the upper hand after all. If he had wanted more leverage, the Shimada’s should have managed their money and power better.

“Mr. Shimada, I’m already being very generous by obliging to add an addition twenty for your trouble. Your second son is a used-up whore more worn than these city streets, and we both know it. I’ll take the first born, or I’ll leave. And you can figure out your financial struggles on your own.” Leaning back in your chair, you uncrossed your legs ready to walk away if your demands were not met.

You were something of a truth teller. Rather known for it really. You had a sense of survival and sharp instincts that had served you well over the years. You knew how to make your allies rich and how to screw over your rivals. Some called you crass and uncouth for this. But you didn’t care. People’s opinions meant nothing to you. After all, money talked.

“Some would say the boy’s experience would make him an asset. After all, doesn’t one desire a well broken stallion?” One of the elders that accompanied the Shimada leader spoke up, clearly displeased with the current proposal.

“I prefer to break my own stallions. Makes them better for my liking. And your eldest is quite the fine specimen indeed.” Sojiro glared disdainfully at you, clearly irked at hearing his son sized up like livestock. Despite this, you could tell there was a great reluctance in him to walk away from such a sum. He knew there would never come another offer this beneficial. “I really am doing you a favor here, Mr. Shimada. I have no shortage of men that would be more than willing to meet my needs. I have no need of your son beyond a trophy for my collection. And an extra $20 million is no small change. It would more than help with those pesky debts you’ve accumulated. May even get you back in good graces with your American partners.” You did not hide your smugness. Everyone in the room knew you were right, and that the clan desperately needed this if it was to survive. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t.  
Sojiro knew what he had to do, knew what choice was best for the clan, but you could tell, as the father of the main bargaining chip, he couldn’t bring himself to agree to such a thing. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to. Placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, one of the elders stepped forward, taking over the situation as he freed Sojiro from this obligation, something the clan leader was clearly bitterly thankful for.

“Alright. We’ll agree to your terms, on the condition of your silence about this little, ugly matter.” The grin that spread your cheeks was cruel and heartless, but you didn’t care. You loved it when a deal worked out in your favor.

“Of course. This is business after all.” Standing from the table, you extended a hand purposely to Sojiro, paying no mind to the hatred that lay thinly veiled behind his eyes. “We are all professionals here.” With gritted teeth, the man shook your hand, sealing the deal. Without a second glance, you turned away, joining your guards as you headed for the door and the comfort of your luxurious limo. “Bring him by tonight. I’ll have your money then. Oh, and here.” Motioning to one of your men, they obeyed, handing over a small package to the Shimada leader. “Give the boy this. Tell him it’s a gift and he’s to wear it tonight.”

“What is it?” Sojiro asked, eyes the package wearily. Glancing over your shoulder, you spared him a pitiable look and a raised bow.

“Do you really want to know?” When the man gave no reply, you took your leave, abandoning the man to his regrets and burdens that weighed heavily on him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had not been an easy thing for his father to explain, this deal that was made to save the clan. Anger and hurt were just a few of the emotions that gripped the Shimada castle that night. But ultimately, Hanzo had bent to his sense of duty, and his obligation to the clan, convincing himself that there was no other way.

There were no proper goodbyes that night. Not between Hanzo and his mother, nor even his brother. Genji was out drinking himself into oblivion as he was most nights, and there was no sense in working their mother into a frenzy. Hanzo was given an hour to pack up any belongings he wanted to bring and change into your special gift before he was loaded into the back of a car and toted to the meeting point.

Your estate was impressively large. Rivaling that of the Shimada castle easily, though far more grand and gaudy in architecture in Hanzo’s opinion. A definite sign of new money risen from poverty. Pursing his lips, the youth reminded himself that this was for his clan.

“My, he’s even more handsome than the pictures implied. Looks just like you.” Smiling at the two men as they stood in your entryway, stern and powerful, you were unbothered by the disdain that shown in their eyes. “And you wore the tie. Tell me, how do you like my little present? I imported it from Europe just for you.” Standing before the young man, you slipped your fingers over the fine silk before pressing it flat again against his sturdy chest. The tightness of his lips and the pinch in his brow were answer enough. Glancing over at the boy’s father, he seemed relieved to know the contents of the package he had given his son. Stepping back, you took two large briefcases from one of your female servants, thanking her. “Stoic type huh? Just like your father. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you Shimada boys smile. You all are too serious. You’ll put yourself in an early grave that way.” Handing over the briefcases to the guard closest to Sojiro, you grinned as the man opened the case, inspecting the stacks of bills with the leader with a mixture of annoyance and appreciation. “Life was meant to be enjoyed.” Hanzo felt a prickle in his spine at the way you drew out the final word, looking him up and down out of the corner of your eye with hunger. “Mira, please take young Mr. Shimada here to his room. I’ll be up shortly to speak with him on the details of his stay.”

With a bow, Mira stepped forward, motioning respectfully for Hanzo to follow her as two more women took his bags in hand. The youth spared his father one final, and admittedly hopeful, glance. He knew his father couldn’t back out now, knew the clan needed this money if it was to survive, knew there was no way out, but still, a part of him hoped his father would stop him, would refuse, would usher him back into their car and the two of them would go home together. But his father never even met his gaze, finding it easier to stare off into the distance, his message clear.

Firming his resolve, Hanzo turned to follow the women up the stairs, mentally preparing himself for whatever lay in his future. As he was lead down a series of hallways, the voices of you and Sojiro going over the conditions of visitations and contact grew distant.

The place was definitely expansive, hallways branching out in all directions with tall, ornate ceilings and expensive décor. Hanzo focused on mapping out the layout as best he could, not wanting to get lost in this mansion. The two women carrying his things did not speak a word, following behind obediently, heads downcast. Mira, however, could not be silenced.

The grand build of the home, the many lavish and extravagant rooms, the fine art , everything about the house she seemed to know, and was all too willing to share with the young man. She spoke of the expansive dining room, the French chef that had been flown in just to work for you, the Olympic sized swimming pool, the many acres of orchards and woods, the library with its many rare books. On and on she went, giving Hanzo a sense of just how never ending your estate was. He wasn’t sure if this was a tactical move to try and show him just how prosperous and powerful you were, or if the woman just wanted him to be impressed, but either way, Hanzo found it all garish.

When they reached what was to be his room, the woman ushered him in, indicating all the necessary accommodations. The room was larger than the one Hanzo had back at the castle, with a king sized bed and attached bathroom and vanity, a fireplace and floor to ceiling window. Truly, the room was worthy of a Yakuza prince.

“Would you like us to put your things away?” Mira asked, pleased by the man’s appreciation of the room.

“No.” Hanzo’s sharp tone did not bother her as he stared her down. “I’ll get them myself. You may leave.”

“Very well.” With a respectful bow, the three took their leave, closing the door behind them as they left the man alone with his thoughts and worries.

Glancing at the windows, the idea flashed through his head that he could escape, this was only the third floor, he could easily climb down and be free of whatever humiliation this woman had planned for him. But the thought was quickly dismissed. There was no honor in fleeing from a deal, and his clan was struggling enough with their reputation.

Clenching his fist, the man let a growl escape him, frustrated and angry at the situation he found himself in. Why him? His brother would have been so much better suited for this lifestyle. Pampered and free of the obligations of leadership, Genji would have loved being someone’s trophy. Probably would have shown himself off. Not that he didn’t already every weekend at the clubs. But Hanzo, he was meant to rule, he was trained from birth to inherit the leadership of their family’s great empire. He was not made to be somebody’s play thing, a toy they took out when they were bored.

“Is the room to your liking, dragon prince?” Without even knocking, you walked into the room, already asserting that there would be no privacy for the young man as long as he lived in your mansion. When a stern glare was the man’s only reply, you did not falter, instead sitting on the end of the bed as you smiled up at him. You were used to dealing with his type, stern and serious men who didn’t know how to let their walls down. It was best to get right down to business with them. “So, now that business is taken care of, I’d like to see the rest of your gift.” Crossing your legs, you smiled up at him, eyes consuming him like candy as they ravaged him.

Hanzo had never feared a woman, or man for that matter. He had never been intimidated by anyone beyond his father and uncle, even then, only rarely in great moments of anger. But something in the way you looked at him, so penetratingly, so possessively, sent a wave of prickles down his spine, putting him on edge and on guard.

You said nothing more, sitting there on the edge of the bed as you waited for him to obey, the only option he really had. With great disdain, the young man unclenched his fist, keeping his hands steady as he loosened his tie.

“Leave the tie,” you instructed, catching the man off guard, “I want to see the present in its entirety.” Your leer only intensified, unsettling the man further as he slipped his jacket off to lay across the dresser. Licking your lips, you admired the man’s strong build, his broad shoulders and trim hips, his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, his piercing eyes and taunt body.

Anger grew in Hanzo, burning like hell fire at the idea that this was what he was reduced to. Him, the heir of the great Shimada empire, now nothing more than a slab of good looking meat for you to consume whole, devouring for your pleasure till there was nothing left. Unbuttoning his well-tailored shirt, his chest began to heave in his rage, pressing against the second half of your gift that his father hadn’t seen.

Pulling the shirt free from his pants, he slipped it off his shoulders, not meaning the gesture to be as sexual as it looked. As he folded the shirt neatly to place with his jacket, you admired the bulk of his arms, the well defined muscles of his neck and shoulders, so sculpted and prominent. His chest was thick, like his father’s, sturdy and well formed, much to your liking even if it was still concealed beneath his sleeveless undershirt. But that would be next.

“So this is the legendary dragon tattoo.” Reaching out, you ran your fingertips lightly down his arm, admiring the vivid colors and fine detail work of the ink. You could feel the man flex at the touch, clearly displeased with the casual contact. Hanzo was used to beautiful young women flirting with him, but none were so overly familiar to touch him as they pleased like you did. 

“Hm,” was all you got in response, the man pulling just far enough away to be out of your reach. Crossing his arms, the man scowled down at you, as if he honestly believed this was the furthest things were going to go. You could already see the straps of your gift peeking out from beneath the tank top, the black color even showing through the shirt enough to give a tease of what was beneath. But you wanted to see more.

“All of it.” You were less gracious this time, your tone more of an order than it had been before as you asserted yourself.

“Is this really necessary?” The man growled, teeth tight as his fist clenched.

“I think it is.” You smiled, leaning back to rest on your hands as you waited patiently for the man to strip. Despite your ward’s annoyance, you were enjoying yourself. Hanzo was delightful to look at, his chiseled form stirring up a warmth in you that your other men haven’t inspired in some time. And his spirit had you excited to see how much energy he would bring to the bed.

Motioning with your fingers for him to continue, you did not miss the snarl the man offered as he reached up over his back to pull his undershirt over his head, quickly tossing it on the dresser with the rest of his clothes before folding his strapping arms across his chest. The faintest pink tinge dusted his cheeks now, eyes averted as he tried to ignore your hungry gaze.

“Move your arms. I want to see.” Another grumble, eyes pinched shut and brows furrowed before he shifted, hands placed sternly on his hips as he continued to avoid your eyes.

His chest was just as strong as you had imagined, pecs bulging from beneath the black leather that framed them, binding his torso and collaring his throat as they wrapped tightly around him. The straps creaked with his harsh breathing, digging the connecting rings into his sides and sternum as he tried to pretend you didn’t have him wrapped up like a kinky present.

Standing, you took a few steps towards him, running your hands over his thick frame before giving his soft pecks a little squeeze. Stiffening, you enjoyed the way his muscles went from soft and malleable to taunt as he tensed. You’d have to be sure to get these lovely tits in a bra at some point. Something lacy and pretty.

“You look magnificent. Leather suits you well, little dragon.” Running your fingertips along the collar, you savored the way the man’s skin warmed and redden at your touch, his anger and humiliation transparent. “You know. I was worried we’d have to cut this pretty hair off.” Reaching under his arm, you ran your fingers through his loose ponytail, surprised at just how silky and well cared for his hair was as you twirled it around your fingers. “But I think keeping it will be quite beneficial.” Your voice was a growl as you seized hold of the tangle of hair, yanking his head back so that his back arched and his neck was left completely exposed. Pressing yourself against him, you maintained a tight grip around his waist, lips lingering against his neck to expel hot air over his prickling flesh.

Face now forced to the ceiling, unable to see you, Hanzo grabbed your arms on instinct, his grip bruising and his strength far greater than yours. But as much as he wanted to fling you away, to strike you and end this now, there was one voice of reason that screamed in his head, halting him. This was for the clan. This show was nothing more than a power play on your part.

His hands shook in his anger, but he made no further move to fight you, breathing heavily as he remained frozen in place. Grinning against his neck, you nipped at his jugular, pleased with the defensive grunt he gave as his only response.

“Very good.” You purred, placing a few more bites here and there over his windpipe, making the man flinch at the sense of danger that welled in him. “Now let me see the rest.”

Releasing him, you waited patiently as the man adjusted himself, those sharp eyes glaring furiously at you, as if that would somehow change the situation. With harsh and agitated movement, the young Shimada unfastened his belt, yanking it off as he continued to scowl at you, refusing to give you the satisfaction of his embarrassment. Slamming the belt down on the dresser, the man proceed to kick his shoes off while unbuttoning his pants, almost popping the button off. With a harsh tug, Hanzo yanked his pants down, kicking them off to lay crumpled on the floor. Straightening himself, he refused to show weakness, refused to let himself be vulnerable as he puffed out his chest. He would not give you the upper hand.

“You didn’t wear it all. How disappointing.” Snapping the waistband of his boxer briefs, you pretended to pout, unbothered by his disobedience. He would be listening soon enough.  
Even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you had to admit, the black fabric hugged his sturdy hips and toned thighs nicely, leaving you wondering what the back looked like. 

As you walked around him to inspect his ass, Hanzo took a bit of pride in his defiance. He knew that ultimately you would get your way, that he would be most likely used for your own pleasure as a fuck toy, but even though it had been your order to wear what you gave him, Hanzo refused to be seen in that black spandex thong. Something about it was just so demeaning, so exposing, even worse to him than the leather straps that bound his chest. He wouldn’t do it.

His moment was interrupted at the sudden sting of your hand delivering a sharp smack to his right butt cheek, giving a strong squeeze as you watched his eyes widen. Jumping, the man’s neck actually cracked as he whipped his head around to glare hatefully at you. Not that you payed him much mind.

“I must say, this is about the finest ass I have ever seen. So squishy.” As if to emphasize your point, you gave his cheek a few more harsh squeezes, pleased with the way it molded in your hand.

Hanzo bit back his blush at your statement. Only his parents had ever struck him like that, and even then only in punishment and only when he was very young. Sure, he had dealt out spankings during intercourse before, but he had never been on the receiving end.

Your hand slid up his back before slipping into his boxers, allowing you to better appreciate his soft skin and ample buttox. Again laying yourself against him, you enjoyed the fire that burned just under his flesh, imagining all the things you wanted to do with this Adonis of a man.

“Tell me, I know you are not as experienced as your brother. But are your interest as... abnormal as his?” You relished the word as it left your lips, leaning up to him as your finger pushed past his cheeks to rub against his puckered hole.

“Hey!” He shouted, smacking your hand as he lurched away, leaning against the dresser in an attempt to put some distance between himself and your explorative hands. Glaring at you with seething eyes, the man’s jaw was tense, shoulders stiff as he fought the urge to strike you. “I am not my brother! If you wanted a whore, you should have taken him.”

A small part of him hated that he was so easily offering up his brother to take his place. In truth, he would never wish this upon his brother. Even if Genji was a slut, a partier, a drug using disappointment that never did anything for anyone but himself. Hanzo still loved him, and hoped that one day the two of them would rule side by side. But in this moment, the hurt and the anger of his situation got the better of him.

The smile you offered him might have seemed charming in any other situation, maybe even sympathetic, but in light of this situation, it just seemed cruel.

“I buy new, not used.” You stated, cherishing the disgust you saw in the youth’s dazzling eyes. Disregarding his anger, you returned to your close proximity. With the young man pinned between your wandering hands and the dresser, he had little escape from your affections. As your hands traced his hips, moving in closer to the object of your desire, you lay a light kiss on the man’s collar bone, enjoying how he flinched and the way your lipstick stained his skin. Brushing his hair back, you continued to mark him. Continuing with lipstick before moving on to bruises.

Small marks stained his flesh. The scion squirming under your touch as your finger traced over the length of his flaccid cock. His neck turned a beautiful shade of red, small defiant noises escaping him as he tried to deny the small twitch as his cock pulsed to life. As his head leaned back to the side in an attempt to escape your lips, his neck was left exposed for your teeth to drag along.

There was no way you missed the tremor in his legs as a gasp escaped him, more lusty in nature than the man would have liked. His eyes widened as he heard the noise that escaped himself. Taking advantage of his alarm, you knocked his legs out from under him to send him toppling to the floor. He barely managed to catch himself at the last second, landing on his knees in front of the large mirror that occupied the wall near the bed.

You were on him before he could bark out a response, arms encircling him as you nipped at his ear. You could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, his powerful muscles flexing as he suppressed the urge to fight back. You were impressed with self control. Most of your toys needed quite the breaking their first time.

“You know, there’s no reason this can’t be enjoyable for the both of us.” Fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, your free hand reached around his waist to cup his cock through the black fabric of his underwear. To your pleasure, not only did you find him filling in your grasp, but half hard at your touch.

“You offer only false pleasures. Filthy temptress.” He spat, eyes shutting tight as he tried to will his cock from growing erect.

“You say that, boy.” Leaning in, you licked along his ear, enjoying the small tremble you felt in the young man’s spine as he struggled to resist his most basic impulse. “But your cock seems to be enjoying this filth.” He offered up a snarl, as if it was a rebuttal. You ignored it, knowing he was no threat as long as he was honor bound. Slipping his cock out, you took great delight in both its size and girth. The boy really was gifted. Running your fingers along his cock, you savored its feel in your hand. “You sure aren’t putting up much of a struggle.”

“As if I have any choice in the matter.” Despite his protest, and the glare he spared you through the mirror, he did not force you away, did not remove your hand from his manhood. Nuzzling into his hair, you breathed in his scent, your breath hot against his ear as you murmured.

“Of course you have a choice. You can either choose to fight me out of some sense of control, or you can choose to enjoy the pleasure we’ll make together. No responsibilities, no obligations, just the joy of pure desire and satisfaction.” Despite his pride, or maybe because of it, Hanzo found his body growing hot, face flushed as the world melted away, and all that was left was the image of the two of you in the mirror.

Though he would never admit it, not even to himself, a part of him liked the sound of what you promised. Freedom. Carnal pleasures. No duties beyond his own needs and wants. A life so different than the one he had always been preparing for. Somewhere deep, in his most secret and private thoughts he hid from even himself, he had always wondered what it would be like. What was it that kept that perpetual smile on Genji’s face? Could that world ever do anything for him?

Your hand became a distraction as it pumped his cock, the sudden spark of stimulation causing him to jolt as you skillfully worked him up.

“Tell me, Shimada. Have you ever just surrender yourself to someone, body and soul? Just given yourself over to them completely, with no thought of your image or your pride? Let yourself fall to pieces at their touch?” Quickening the pace of your hand, your mouth traveled the length of his shoulder and neck, eyes watching his through the mirror as your voice murmured in his ear, heavy and seductive. “Not caring what sounds you make.” Free hand reaching around to cup his balls, you took great pride in the stifled moan that slipped past the man’s lips. His breath was more ragged, eyes hazed over as he watched your hand pumping his cock, eyes occasionally darting up to see you and his own lewd expression staring back at him. “Knowing only complete, consuming pleasure.”

As the muscles of his thighs twitched, small shuddering sounds escaping him, you knew the man was at the brink. Despite his will, despite his discipline, the sight of himself being pleasured in the mirror was more than the man was prepared for.

“Surrender to me, boy. And I’ll show you a world you’ve never known.” You promised, turning his head towards you to steal a kiss as your tongue violated his mouth.

Lips parted, his moans were freed as you assaulted his mouth, hand reducing him to a helpless mess. Though he knew he should, in the face of his imminent orgasm, he couldn’t bring himself to fight. He wanted this pleasure, wanted the blinding ecstasy he had been deprived for so long. In that moment, there wasn’t enough blood in his brain to reason. All he could think of was your hand, your mouth, your words reverberating in his throat and nesting in his gut.

With a choked sound, he came, eyes rolling into the back of his head as his hips bucked into your hand. You savored the way his groans echoed in your mouth, the unresponsive way his jaw hung open and his whole body jerked. His cum was freed in large spurts, spattering the floor and mirror before him to speckle his reflected image with the evidence of his weakness.

With a few slow thrusts into your hand, he rode out what remained of his high, clinging desperately to what pleasure it granted him. But inevitably, it faded, leaving him dazed and vulnerable. His skin was chilled with sweat and his voice lost as you chuckled with satisfaction.

He thought of his father’s stern expression, so disapproving. His mother’s deep, mournful eyes. Tears came to him, bitter and full of regret and shame as a deep loathing grew at his lowly state. But you took him in your arms, kissing at each of his tears as they slipped free.

“You’re such a beautiful mess, Hanzo.” Running your fingers through his hair, you admired the white pearls that painted the floor before the young man. “So proud. So dutiful. I’ll show you how to really live, my little dragon. And you will thank me.”


End file.
